Пёрселл Генри - If music be the food of love - текст песни (слова), перевод

If music be the food of love,
 sing on till I am fill'd with joy;
 for then my list'ning soul you move
 with pleasures that can never cloy,
 your eyes, your mien, your tongue declare
 that you are music ev'rywhere. Pleasures invade both eye and ear,
 so fierce the transports are, they wound,
 and all my senses feasted are,
 tho' yet the treat is only sound.
 Sure I must perish by our charms,
 unless you save me in your arms. 
 The first line of Heveningham's poem quotes the opening seven words of Twelfth Night by Shakespeare, giving rise to the belief that Purcell's song is a setting of a Shakespearean text, when it is not. The play begins: If music be the food of love, play on,
 Give me excess of it, that surfeiting,
 The appetite may sicken, and so die.